Corrupt Beauty
by Keiraun
Summary: Redone Version.
1. The Act'

  
  
  
  


Corrupt Beauty   
By- Zell's Girl 

------------------- 

The afternoon sun beat down on the deck as Zenan became present on the horizon. I was unaware of that at the time, for I was sitting in the cargo hold of an enemy ship. Karsh was next to me, polishing his axe. Zoah and Glenn were sitting this mission out. It made sense, since it was a small mission to begin with. That's why we alone were hiding in the enemy vessel in those annoying, itchy Porre uniforms. 

I ran my fingers across my necklace chain. The lone charm slid about, but I really didn't notice. My thoughts were on something else. Well, more along the lines of someone… Van Rudalya. 

No matter how hard I tried to remove Van from my chain of thought, the image of him grew more distinct in my head. I knew it was risky to be consumed by outside matters on a mission, but it seemed that he was there to stay, firmly planted in the back of my head. 

Van… 

_I can't escape you even a million miles away, can I?_ I thought to myself, continuing to fiddle with my necklace.  
  


_"So, this is it?" I said looking about the new Viper Manor garden. _

Van beamed at his design work, "Isn't it spectacular?" 

I understood what he meant, but I really am not as sentimental as Van. The flowers were pretty, I suppose, a variety of colors and shapes, but spectacular wasn't quite the word I would have used. 

"It's a nice place." 

"Well… you may not see it the way I do, but this is a unique garden I designed, all the rarest flowers from as far as Zenan. A beautiful place for a beautiful girl. Oh, and the rest of the manor's residents." I smiled a little; Van's compliments meant very to me. Not many people can treat someone like me, with my job and duties, kindly. 

"Remember Marcy, beauty is everywhere, whether in a rare purple iris or a glistening sword. It just needs to be found."   


I shook the thought of that night and look to the lone porthole window. I could spot the port ahead. I signalled to Karsh that we are arriving. He nodded. My companion started rereading the debriefing and I looked over his shoulder down at the paper. 

**Mission- Infiltrate Porre missile silo and destroy computer panel.   
Priority One- If not destroyed; El Nido could be easily destroyed.   
Once mission is completed, head to the docks in Porre. An empty   
black boat with a red Zenan emblem with no eyes will be waiting   
for you. Remain inconspicuous. Take as few casualties as possible.**

I stopped at those lines. I really didn't want to read any more of it. I focused on the mission. _Destroy computer panel; try to make it in quick and simple. Board ship, sail home. That's only a day or two. Not much work._

Just then, the boat hit the shore. The impact nearly made me fall over, but I held steady. An actual soldier entered the room. My eyes widened under my goofy helmet. 

"Hey, um, what are you guys doing down here?" 

"Captain said that we need to guard the cargo; he says that sometimes stowaways come aboard." Karsh lied. 

"Oh. Um, both of you?" he asked, rather confused. 

"Marcus here was taking down records of the cargo for the captain while I searched for intruders." Karsh offered calmly. Karsh really had gotten the hang of lying to people long before I knew him. 

"Hey, I have to head to Captain now, I'll take the reports for you if ya want." I noted that for the enemy, he sure seemed polite. They are such sweet, lovable morons, those curtious ones. 

"No, Marcus has to deliver them. It's said that someone might tamper with them. Better not to take any risks." 

"Oh, okay then! See ya at the base," the soldier said, walking out of the cargo hold. 

I smiled at Karsh. If it weren't for him I don't know what I would have done. I probably would have tied the soldier up and shoved him in some cargo and run like hell. I guess I should learn to rely less on strength. 

I followed Karsh up several stairs, passing by many other soldiers. I cloaked my nerves and anger as best as I could as I passed them by. The soldiers socialized normally. I glared at them. The Porre were just pointless monsters blocking my way. To slay one would have no effect then. 

Oh, how wrong I was. 

Making it out of the ship was rather simple; just go up every staircase to the bridge. From the bridge we left onto the dock's abandoned boardwalk. When we were far out of sight, Karsh and I removed our helmets. Karsh pulled out a map from his pocket. 

"It's not far, and we should wait 'til night anyway." Karsh informed me. "Wanna go shopping or something? Most girls your age like shopping." 

"Am I most girls?" I protested to Karsh's teasing. Karsh laughed; he knew I didn't fall into any stereotypes and he would use all of them as jokes. 

"Let's stop at a bar, I'm parched as hell." 

"Sounds good to me." We pulled our helmets back on and headed into town. 

Porre was such a pretty and well-designed city. I didn't appreciate as a child the sheer beauty of the Porre architecture. I recalled what Van had said, 'there's beauty in everything'. This even applied to the city that posed greatest threat to El Nido. 

"This looks nice." Karsh said, stopping outside a small bar. On a simple wooden sign it said 'Vemoria Tavern'. It had nicely painted red exterior walls and elm doors. It looked rather expensive place, but Karsh always had plenty of money on hand. We Devas made a nice salary. I actually had the most of all of us, considering that I was an Acacia Dragoon Deva since I was five years old and was never much to splurge on luxuries unless I wanted the item in question terribly. 

When we walked into the bar, it looked pretty interesting. The walls were a pale blue with hardwood floors, and three sides of the wall were counters aligned with simple red stools. A few civilians were in there with around three soldiers. Karsh and I took a seat along the left wall. 

"What'll it be, boys?" asked a young woman barkeeper, shaking up a drink for one of the other customers. 

"A beer and a water," Karsh said. 

"Water? We don't serve water." The bartender replied, easily annoyed. 

"Um, how 'bout tomato juice?" Karsh answered, thinking of non-alcoholic drinks for me. 

"Well, all right." The lady got right to work. 

"Hey, I know you!" one of the soldiers said from behind us. Karsh and I looked at each other and turned around. I was ready to bolt out the door until I relized who the voice was from. "Yer those guys from the cargo hold patrol!" 

It was just the guy from the ship. Good. He smiled and walked over to us. He sat next to Karsh and seemed pretty happy to see other soldiers. He peels off his helmet and puts it on the bar. 

"Hey Anya! I'd like a coffee please." 

"Comin' up sweety!" she chirped to him. She seemed much less hostile towards the cheerful soldier. 

I look down and noticed my drink was there. I raise the glass and sipped a little from it. 

The Porre man slapped himself in the head lightly. "Oh, sorry, my name's Trip," He introduced. 

"I'm Keith, and that's Marcus. Pleasure to meet 'cha." Karsh extended his hand. The two grinned at each other and started to drink down their beverages. 

"How long you two been with the Porre Army?" Trip asked. He obviously just wanted to socialize. He reminded me of Van a little as I inspected him. Their facial builds were quite similar and they shared rare purple eyes. 

"We enlisted together about 7 years ago. We met up again for the first time in a year on the ship today." Karsh could always just make up things so well and remember them perfectly. I hoped he could remember it. 

"Nifty." Trip chimmed vibrantly. "I guess Marcus is the quiet one?" 

Karsh knew I had to keep quiet, due to my obviously feminine voice. "Marcus was injured in a mission in a few years ago; shredded his vocal chords." 

_Great, _I thought,_ not only am I a guy I'm mute guy._

"I'm sorry." Trip stirred his coffee a little, looking down. "Are you guys on the mission tonight?" 

Karsh raised an eyebrow. Anything to interfere could be huge trouble. 

"Patrolling the main road to the silo for a couple hours." 

"Nah, we're on guard," Karsh said happily. "And you shouldn't speak about the missions with civilians in the area, could be spies." Karsh removed his helmet and placed it on the table. I restrained a sigh in sorrow that my stuff helmet needed to remain on. 

"Damn!" Trip sighed, sounding rather ashamed. "I am such a terrible soldier!" 

"Don't worry, kid, just wait. You'll become better in time," Karsh reassured him. The two smiled at each other. Trip further reminded me of Van right then. His face, attitude, and smile were just too alike. With his spirit he shouldn't be a good soldier. The thought of Van as a dragoon scared me when it came to mind. Kind people weren't meant to be soldiers. It seemed possible that his spirit would dull and he would become a good soldier with time... 

Sadly this man didn't have time on his side. 

The two socialized while I listened to them for the next several hours. Trip was a really nice guy. He had a girlfriend who he worshipped. He loved to sing and write. The bartender and he were childhood friends. He didn't drink because he had a father who used to drink. He was at a literary art school until his parents pulled the tuition and he joined the military. 

Karsh seemed pretty laid back from his usual edgy self that evening. When we were sneaking up the path at half past nine, he was careless about the amount of noise he made. I told him of this and he immediately snapped back into good old sneaky Karsh. 

We made it to the silo dodging several guards. The doors weren't secured; there were probably snipers somewhere nearby though. Luckily, they wouldn't notice two of 'their own' soldiers walking into a weapon's silo. 

When we got inside, I realized how big a missile actually was. I pulled off my helmet to see if I was just seeing an amplified version through the visor. I wasn't. Anything that big that exploded would kill everyone in a large radius. That proved to me the threat. We couldn't screw this one up. 

Karsh moved directly to the panel. I stuck by the door, watching for men on patrol. Karsh took out his axe and stripped the top layer of metal off. He knew what he was looking for, a 'chip' as Norris used to say. It was a flat, small piece of metal usually at the center of a device. It was a computer-brain, so once you removed it the whole thing died. 

I looked around as Karsh dug into the metal casing of the machine. The coast seemed clear. I just had to be careful, stay on guard. 

"How's it coming?" I called up to Karsh. 

"I should be able to find it before midnight." Karsh replied, not even looking out at me. 

I relaxed against a wall and was covered by pleasent shadow. I closed my eyes. Van instantly invaded my thoughts. I pondered the life he lived. He was so idealistic, innocent-minded. Sometimes I thought that he and I were polar opposites. 

Then, I noticed something in reality; footsteps. My well-trained ears could pick them up easily once I was paying attention. Up on the catwalk, someone was sneaking up behind Karsh. I knew if I yelled the guy would strike Karsh right in the back. 

I climbed up few boxes and hopped onto the catwalk. The tearing and ripping of wires which sparked and sizzled from Karsh's direction blocked out the sound of my stealthy movements. I ran quickly. Step after step, I knew the guy was approaching Karsh with every intent to strike him down. 

I would not let myself lose one of my few friends. 

My steps grew faster. I drew my sword when I was about 20 feet away. The soldier noticed the vibrations of the floor. He turned around just in time to get an unintention full blow from my blade. To my horror, the blood literally sprayed at me. That had never happened before. I hit an artery or something I suppose. His blood collided with my face and uniform, causing me to shut my eyes for a second. 

"Damn!" I yelled. _Damn... damn... damn..._ the walls echoed. I wasn't aiming to kill. I wouldn't in this kind of mission. I intended just to injure him, but he had to turn around. He had to make my strike fatal. 

I quickly removed the enemy's helmet. I looked at the soldier in horrified awe. It was Trip. He wasn't quite dead, but slipping fast.I looked to Karsh who was watching, I nodded and Karsh continued in the machine. 

"Come on Trip, don't die." I said, placing my ear to his chest. 

"Who…" He started. "The bar…" 

"Shut up and don't die, kid!" I yell. Yelling at someone who's dying… 

That's just how I was. 

"You're… Acacians…" He knew who we were, it was obvious. Hell, how many people wouldn't recognize us? We're infamous. Man with purple hair, blonde girl who fights, 7-foot tall giant, how inconspicuous! "I'm… so… stupid…" 

He stopped. He was dead. I stood up and grabbed my sword. I looked down at the blade. Covered in blood. I shoved it back in my scabbard. I stepped over the body cautiously and went to Karsh. He held up the chip up to me then shoved it in his pocket. He thoroughly destroyed the rest of the machine. Then, we simply left 

We left Trip's body there, lifeless on the grated floor. His blood slipped through the grates, puddling on the floor twenty feet below. 

We walked cautiously down the two-mile path back. When Karsh and I made it to the city, we ran down the empty streets to our Porre boat. It was quite easy to spot, being the only docked lifeboat. The motor turned on with ease, and we were off. 

The sun came up after a sleepless night of silence. Karsh never talked on a boat he's piloting. I rubbed my eyes so I could get a nice view of the sunrise over Guldove. Then, I noticed my hands. Smears of dry blood were still on them. Also, Trip's blood was under my fingernails. 

I dipped my hands into the water the boat passed over. I rubbed the cool liquid all over my face. I massaged my weary eyes for a few seconds more seconds. The manor was only about an hour away now. I was hoping the manor and my friends would ease my troubled mind. 

Silence, bitter silence. I hate it sometimes. Silence seems melodically malicious, deceptively peaceful. In the silence, all my worst thoughts rose. All my regrets consumed me. The thoughts ran amok and trampled over the serenity I should find. 

Karsh nearly crashed us into the Viper Manor bluffs. I hopped ashore and helped Karsh tie the boat up. We headed up the walls together, avoiding the off-sprays and falling rocks. 

At the top, Zoah and Glenn awaited our arrival. The four Devas need to spend time together. A friendship was near imperative. We needed to be loyal so to make us feel responsible for each others. It's a genius plan really. 

"Hey guys, how was the mission?" Glenn asked happily, his wiry little smile emerging. He was obviously happy to have us back, but I really wanted to go to my room. I was very distraught. I left silently, and no one would notice until I was gone. Karsh always did the talking anyway. 

My head pounded as I walked through the halls still in Porre uniform. Many of the men drew ther swords but quickly returned them to their scabbards as they realized it was just me. 

I slammed the door to my room as I entered; I felt that then the word would get around that I am in a bad mood. 

Regretfully, I looked at my mirror. My fake uniform still had blood on it. My stomach turned at the sight. I immediately took off the wretched things and threw them into a corner. 

I opened my closet and took out my training clothes. I knew that the dragoons would go for a couple of hours of training like we always do in the mornings. I pulled on a skintight sleeveless shirt and a pair of shorts. 

I didn't like the attention this kind of clothes give me from some of the more unintellegent male soldiers as I walk down the halls. But hell, they are the best things I could wear for working out. Anyway, when I had the other guys around, the soldiers don't even cast a glance near me without being snarled at. 

I walk back over to the mirror and inspect myself. I fixed my hair and all that other stuff before I look back at my fingernails. I still had blood beneath them. It was in the process of frustrating me when I knock came on the door. 

"WHAT!?" I yell, not noticing my tone or volume in my annoyance. 

"Marcy, it's time for training." Glenn called in the door. "You coming, or do ya need some sleep or something?" 

I opened the door and walk out of my room. Zoah and Glenn are outside waiting. "Hey, guys." 

"Hey Marcy, why'd ya leave earlier?" Glenn asked as we all walked down the hallway. 

"YES. IT WAS RATHER ODD," Zoah points out. 

"Well, I wanted to change out of that itchy uniform as soon as possible. Where's Karsh?" I asked. 

"HE SAID WRITING THE MISSION REPORT TO GENERAL." I felt informed then, which was always a good thing. 

Glenn shook his head. "Nah, he's probably sleeping." 

"The weak little jerk." I grumbled jokingly. "Can't even live without sleeping for a week!" 

The others laughed a little as we all enter the training room. I still felt bad about last night. The thoughts started to seep in as I walk to the punching bag. I started pummeling the bag as my thoughts arose. 

_You never thought of the enemy as people. They aren't anyone. But look, you killed a real person, not some sort of enemy beast. He was a perfectly nice person at that. _

How many people have you killed, Marcella? How many people have you murdered that had friends, family lives…? You are a self-righteous bastard, Marcy. 

I didn't notice the speed of my fists. I was moving faster and faster. Glenn and Zoah stopped sparring and watched me. I was moving to fast with too little energy. 

_Marcy, you never want to lose anyone. The enemies aren't monsters, they are like you. No wait, they aren't like you, you're the monster._

According to Glenn and Zoah, I passed out after about 5 minutes of rampaging over the punching bag. They carried me off to the infirmary, where I lied asleep for about two days. The doctor said I overheated. 


	2. Its Reprecussions'

  
  


Corrupt Beauty   
By- Zell's Girl   
------------------- 

Darkness. All I remembered from those days was darkness. It swirled in my head. Ideas arose, but were immediately drowned out. It seemed like my thoughts moved at a million miles a minute, there in an instant and gone in a flash. 

My eyes shot open. I gasped for air, though I don't know why. Cold sweat was on my face. I focused my blurred vision to see a face above me. It was dark, so the room was well masked. It was familiar. The familiarity immediately shocked me. 

My head said '_It's the one you killed you murderer_' out of sheer panic. I really don't know why it registered as such, I guess it was guilt. I gasped. I swung myself over the side of the bed and reached to where my sword would be. My blade and scabbard were both not there. 

"Marcy!" a voice said to me. 

I stumbled back. "Stay away." I took a few more steps backwards. I tripped and landed in a corner. I scrunched up in the edge. 

"Marcella, what's wrong?" the voice inquired desperatly. The form took seveal steps in my direction. 

"I said STAY AWAY!" 

"It's me, Glenn… Are you all right?" Glenn asked, sounding concerned. He knelt down beside me, staring sympathetically into my eyes. 

My head pounded. I was reassured it was only Glenn, but I was still uneasy. "Leave, Glenn. Please, just go." 

"All right, Marcy. If you need me, just head to the barracks." Glenn lit several candles and left the room. 

I recognized my room. I walked back to my bed. I curled up into the warm, familiar blanket. According to Riddel, Glenn watched over me the entire time that I was in the infirmary, day and night. When I was moved into my room he followed like a little boy who felt bad for something he blamed himself for. 

Glenn, my friend, the most responsible and kind of we killers, he could have had so much more than a sword. Glenn was a talented artist, and we all knew it. When he started a sketch it consumed him. The picture then would take a piece of his soul, and started to spark with life on its own. 

But he gave that up to please his brother and father. He could have so much more if he didn't need to please everyone. Sometimes, I wished Glenn was just a little more selfish. 

I fell asleep only by blocking out all my thoughts. My dreamless sleep assisted in my rest; I had no need to wake up screaming. That's one of the things I can be thankful for. 

When I awoke in the morning I walked over to my mirror. I let my hair down. I put on my blue dress and normal leather armor. I didn't look any different, but my outlook on the world has taken a beating. 

I considered for a moment going to the mess hall for Orcha's usual group breakfast of sausage and eggs. I told myself I'd rather sit there at the window, despite the fact I was utterly famished. 

I stare out my window. I could see the garden that Van felt so passionately about. Van… I wondered if he even came to see me while I was in the infirmary. I scanned the room, and there stood the sign he was there. On my desk was a vase of azure blossoms. They were all perfect in shape and well arranged. 

I walked to the display and searched for a card. There was none in the vase. I felt rather neglected until I look below at the base of the flowers. Beneath the edge of the vase there was a note. 

_Dearest Marcella,_   
_I arrived to the manor on Tuesday morning with these flowers._   
_According to what I understand, you were injured or something._   
_When you awaken, I just want you to know I was at your side,_   
_waiting for your recovery. Glenn said he'd make sure you'd be okay._   
_I hope you know how many people love you, and I pray you are well._   
_Sincerely,_   
_Van Rudalya_

I smiled. Van was always there for me, despite the fact he knew I was a heartless killer. Bless the boy, he was so devoted. I also noted that the people who care about me are all monsters like me. 

_We are all such hypocrites here at the manor. They all kill, but treasure those whom are dear to them._

A knock came at my door. I opened it with making a sound. Luccia was outside with a tray of food in hand. "Marcy! Are doing vell?" I beckoned her in, taking the food from her. I wolfed it all down in a second. She started to say things, but my head took over. 

Luccia, she was my mother figure. She was the one to nurture me all throughout my childhood. She was the one to tuck me in at night and saw to it that I always behaved. She's a killer too. She built weapons of mass destruction, similar to the one Karsh and I destroyed. She watched and did nothing at all for she did not realize that my conscience and reasoning were trampled on. 

I looked at her blankly. Her mouth was moving; she was speaking; but my head never registered a word of it. Luccia thought something was off in my head. She left, and probably said something to the others. 

For several hours I was alone. I was left alone with my thoughts. The silence allowed them to take control, and let my emotions take the beating. Though my eyes were on the garden out the window, my thoughts were far away. 

_I sliced my sword across him no thought. The tearing of his flesh seemed to echo for seconds, like when you shred a piece of cloth. Red droplets headed to my face. They seemed larger as they approached. I closed my eyes before the moment of impact. The spatter covered my face. The blood was warm. My frigid skin absorbed the heat in an instant._

Each moment was like reliving it all again. My heart sped. My mind pounded. My entire body burned. I don't know from where the pain stemmed. 

_I am a demon. I have to be alone. Maybe reliving this again and again is my punishment, or perhaps my way to redemption. I will let myself be lit afire. I lock my door to make sure that no one will be able to get in._ I sat back at the window and closed my eyes in ponderance. 

_Crimson, flying scarlet. The blood droplets were like a swarm of starving cardinals, gorgeous for what it was but oddly malicious. I threw my sword aside when I bent to help him. That was something that we dragoons are taught never to do. Not only am I a demon and a killer, I am a poor excuse for one._

A knock came at my door. I didn't know how long it had been, when I was away in my mind I lost track of reality. I didn't respond. 

"Marcy? It's me, Van! Hello? Are you in there?" Van called. I pondered for a second if I should say anything or let him in. I tell myself '_No, Marcy, he doesn't deserve the pain that stems from a monster like you_'. 

Van should have started never dating me. He knew who I was. How could a painter who only could see the beauty in things possibly care about me? It was like the story of the bird that loved the dragon. 

The old legend went that once there was a very beautiful bird. Though many birds loved the beautiful bird, it only loved a ferocious dragon. The bird knew its love was wrong, but it didn't care. The dragon, though ferocious, loved the bird as well. When the times became rough in the valley where the two love-struck creatures existed, the dragon had nothing to eat. Thus the dragon ate the bird it loved so much, just to live. The bird could have been perfectly happy with one of the other birds; but it loved the dragon and just end up being the death of it . 

It is not the happiest of bed time stories Luccia told me as a child, but it proves a point. No matter how right something feels, some things just can't work without pain. I was like the dragon; Van was like the bird. Van could be perfectly happy and live a perfectly wonderful life with some other girl, but he would risk everything to be with me. 

"Hey Van, what are you doing sitting out here on the floor?" A voice asked; it was Glenn. Glenn is really persistent. I smiled slightly at his devotion to being at my side. 

I decided to listen to them. "Marcy's asleep, I guess. She didn't respond when I called in to her, and the door is locked..." 

"Oh," Glenn replied. "So, you and Marcy are dating?" 

Van laughed. "I've been dating Marcy for over a year." 

"I see you come bearing more flowers? You know, if you keep this up, you'll have Marcy's room infested by ravenous locusts or something," Glenn stated, sounding rather serious for the statement. It was obvious to me he was joking, being as I got used to his unique humor. 

"I bought these ones from the shop. I just have never seen red bellflowers before." 

"Oh." 

About a minute of silence ensued. I knew they hadn't left though. Neither of them would be easily discouraged just leave without motivation. I knew the two men would probably just sit out there all day. I know it seemed mean, but I did not want them to see me. Not now, not like this. 

_Who was the first person you ever killed? Oh, that was way back. It must have been around when you were seven years old. Probably a Porre militant or a person who opposed the General's rule._

Seven years old and a killer, that's who I was. Hell, before the Serge adventure I tried to kill Nikki, my own brother! I also tried to kill Glenn as well back when we thought he had betrayed the dragoons. What does that tell you about me, I wonder? I have no heart. 

"Hey Glenn, is Marcy any better?" Karsh asked. I guessed he arrived to visit me as well. Now all three of them were in the hallway, waiting. I almost decided to let them in, but I knew I shouldn't. "Oh, you are here again?" 

Van laughed. "Yeah, of course I'm here." 

"So, are you that serious with Marcy?" Karsh asked. From his tone, I could tell the response he wanted. Karsh was very direct. 

Karsh, he was an interesting fellow. Karsh was calm, cool, and collected at all times. Once you get to know him he's easy to understand. He's a liar, a manipulator, and knows just how to rig a hand of cards. He is probably the best soldier of all of us, since he no longer gives a damn about 'morals'. Don't get me wrong, Karsh cared for me and the others fiercely. Perhaps it was his deceptive attitude that taught him the the need to be trustworthy to those who cared for him. 

"Why don't any of you notice that she and I have been dating for a while now?" Van groaned. The three men all laughed heartilly. 

"Hey, I'm starved. How 'bout you two?" Glenn stated. 

"Let's go grab some lunch from the mess hall, then come back and wait for her to wake up," Karsh replied. 

"Well, um, what about my flowers?" Van asked. 

"Leave them in the lab, Luccia will put 'em in some water and you can pick 'em up later." 

The noise from the three stopped as they left from their post. I had some more time to think. Damn it! When they took away all my conscience couldn't they have eliminated my thought process? 

_I threw away my sword. I knelt beside him. I brought my head down to his chest. The red liquid seeped into my ear. I could lightly hear a pulse. I stared down at him with pleading eyes. His face was covered in a mixture of sweat and blood; his eyes bulged. His body struggled to live, but that was far from possible._

He died a painful death. If I had any mercy I would have remembered to knock him unconscious as I tried to make him live. It was in basic training. Kill humanely and never torture. But why should I remember how to help life when I am told to kill? 

_His eyes started to close. He looked at me with this total look of hatred -- pure, bitter hatred. I looked to Karsh. I knew he couldn't help, he knew less about healing then even I did. "Come on Trip, don't die." I just didn't want him to die, probably because I knew I couldn't face the guilt._

No one could understand this feeling I was facing. I had to face it alone. I was never taught to function alone; I was always part of the unit. I wasn't independent at all. I needed someone to rely on, and in turn I needed to be relied on despite the fact that I push everyone away. 

_Mother… What would you think of me now? Your murderer daughter? You probably wouldn't ever have dreamed of me ending up like this. You and Dad dreamed of a better future, but I have helped destroy all that. Nikki can sing of happiness, love, and a brighter future too. All I can do is hurt people and make some else's tomorrow a hell of a lot darker._

I wondered sometimes if my biological family raised me; how I would have turned out. I'd be a whole different person, I bet. But no, that's not reality. My mother died when I was born. My father turned back into his former pirate self. Dad disappeared so Luccia raised me here at the manor. 

If Luccia hadn't raised me I might have just ended up with Nikki. Maybe I'd have been a singer. I might have grown up going to the best schools, met the 'best' people, and never had needed to hurt a single person at all. I would cause no deaths. On the other hand, I might have just been dead myself. 

There are so many variables in the world. Belthasar always told me that. He used to say that one small thing, like a sound or a motion, could change what happens in someone's life completely. He said to me, "Marcella, you are too young to be thinking about such large matters." Though I was a spoiled brat, I was always quite mature for my age. 

I was always 'the young one' at Viper Manor. I was supposed to be innocent; I was supposed to need to be shielded from the world. They really didn't know me all that well. When I was an adult, I was still misunderstood. Sometimes I wondered if Van or Mel, the two closest friends I had ever had, knew the slightest thing about me. The 'me' beyond my duty and front. I supposed Van did, but that's because I told him many things when we were alone. 

_I began to apply pressure to Trip's wounds. He looked so much like Van it was terrifying. If it were not for the hair color and glasses, they could have easily been mistaken for eachother. "Who… the bar…" he stutters. I know he shouldn't waste his breath. He needs air._

I don't know if how he reminded me of Van was what struck the guilt factor. Maybe it was the realization that the enemy, too, was human. That took away all the faith in what I did. The honor was gone. 

_"Shut up and don't die on me, kid!" I demanded as I tried to aid him. I was bossing around a dying man; how damn noble is that? I made sure the pressure was steady and I attempted to wrap his wounds. He slipped too fast. I knew in my head there was nothing I could do. He was gonna die._

_And it was all my fault._

_"You're… Acacians…" He stammered. He was going. He gasped for air. "I'm… so.. stupid." _

_I heard once from Belthasar that the loss of air is similar in feel to drowning. Both are slow, and deliver no ending peace. All he said that afternoon flashed through my head. He's got a family, people that matter to him. He's an actual person. He had a life he could have salvaged. He had oppurtunities._

_I, Marcella Zane, stripped him of that chance._

I felt a migraine as it grew in temples. My mind couldn't stand the torment. It was all too hard to process. My mind was screaming in agony from the pain that lay within it, though my soul told me to bury the mental knife farther into the wound within my spirit. 

_He was dead. His eyes rolled back in his head no longer exposing the cornea. I lowered his eyelids. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I leaned over his corpse and picked up my sword. I inspected the blood that ran off the blade, and placed it back into my scabbard. As the droplets of blood fell through the grated catwalk, I stepped over Trip's body to Karsh. Each drop echoed quietly as it hit the cement floor below._

I nearly screamed at the memory. I had never felt such unbearable pain surging through me. It felt like I was hit with several fire pillars inside and out. My eyes and mouth were dry. I shook uncontrolably in my bed and somehow fell asleep. 

This pain that ached me so was not just brought on by my guilt and mental anguish; I was suffering from severe dehydration.   



	3. Saving Souls' and Epilogue

  
  
  
  


Corrupt Beauty   
By- Zell's Girl 

------------------- 

Time and place seems irrelevant when you sleep. It feels the same when you are twelve or seventy; it's just a tranquil void of nothingness. In dreamless sleep there is no more pain and thus no more happiness. There is nothing but a content, emotionless peace. 

I never woke up the next morning; I just slept until the middle of the afternoon. 

I slunk over to the same mirror that I always walked over to when I awoke. I checked my appearance. Though I looked completely ravaged and hadn't had a bath in several days, I couldn't bring myself to care enough to do anything about it. I changed into a similar dress with the same armor covering my torso. I couldn't get my hair to look any better so I resigned to slipping it into an uneven bun. 

Riddel always told me 'appearance matters, even when no one is there to notice'. Riddel was rather materialistic, though her heart was usually in the right place. Sometimes I envied her. She has the good life with no effort at all. She didn't need to hurt or fight, she just needed to live. 

I felt weak at that moment. My limbs just wanted to collapse. I stumbled to the windowsill to watch the sun move effortlessly across the horizon. Window let multitudes of light slip through which was usually what summoned me to wake. I gazed down at the Garai Memorial Garden. Van was sitting there, painting. 

Van took to the Garai Memorial Garden most likely because he designed it. It was originally a painting in his gallery. I dragged Karsh and Glenn with me to see Van's works. Though Glenn was about making merriment, Karsh was rather bored by the whole matter. As Van and I discussed the matters of where our next date should be, Karsh picked up the painting. He showed it to Glenn and they agreed. This was what Riddel was looking for in the renovasion of the manor's grounds. 

Van's assistance in the construction of the garden made it less odd that he was about the manor grounds. That made our relationship a great deal easier. Van advised during the day, ate dinner with me and the Devas, and gave us nights to socialize. 

I watched as each stroke of Van's brush on the thick canvas. It was ever changing and precise. Art must have taken Van a lot of patience, which proved to me it was good that I never tried. My eyes strayed from Van to the sky. The sun was going down. It must have been around fifteen minutes to eight o'clock. In a few minutes, the barracks curfew would stop any soldiers from leaving or entering Viper Manor for the evening. 

I curled back into my bed. I thought that maybe some sleep would help me, thought it hadn't before. At least I didn't have to think, I rationalized. When I awoke once more I walked back to the window. It was past dark and Van was nowhere to be seen. 

I crossed my arms over my stomach. My whole body ached. I felt like crying, but no tears were able to fall from my red eyes. Reality slipped away as my pain grew greater. It felt as if millions of needles pierced my skin with the slightest motion. 

_Maybe it feels like this before you die. Maybe this is how it feels as the last pieces of your existence depart the flesh? No, I suppose the pain would ease into a cold numbness. It wouldn't throb with my pulse. Also, if it did, I guess my pulse would slow._ Each thought plagued me. I tried my best to push them away. My attempts were futile. 

_Maybe this is the world's revenge? All the people I killed striking on me like I did to them? Tortures for my torture; that's what I am facing. Painful, bitter, tortures._

Several hours passed in such a manner. I tried to calm myself. As Luccia always told me, 'you can battle the strongest pains with logic'. I began to think in my foggy mind of what could cause such pain. 

It was obvious, dehydration. It was much more severe on me than anyone else, considering I am half mermaid. I needed water. My body yearned for it at times. I needed to just dive into the water some nights and let it all consume me. I guessed the need for water is more tolerable than having scales or webbed toes. 

I opened my door cautiously. Luckily, no one was waiting for me since it was so late. I slipped past other guards unnoticed and entered the kitchen. I turned on the faucet. Not many places have indoor plumbing. Luccia brought the technology from Zenan, as well as the concept of several other useful machines about the manor. 

The water ran down into the empty sink. I cupped my hands and splashed the water onto my burning face. I grabbed one of the many glasses and drank. I consumed a great deal. But it didn't fill my need. I required to go to the water. I needed to leave the manor. 

Leaving was easy enough. The only guard was fast asleep. I just walked by, without taking any stealthy measures. I climbed a tree and lowered myself over the gate. I was free for the night. I walked towards Termina. I parted through several trees until I found the shoreline. 

I kicked off my steel-toed boots and dove in. I submerge myself completely in the cold water. _I have taken in water, why didn't all the pain dissipate?_

I floated around for several minutes. I didn't actually spend too long in the water. I decided to head back to the manor, so I was not to upset anyone who if they searched for me. I parted easily through the familiar trees, even in the darkest of night. 

_Not everything can be solved so easily, Marcy. There are things out of your hands. You can't control anything, not even yourself. You have to live with this. You are a killer. You are a murderer. Plain and simple as a sky without moonlight.___

_You can't offer anyone love, can you? You are a source of pain to all those around you. You worry the other devas. You leave Van alone to suffer. You should let him go off on his own. If you can feel anything at all, you should want him to be happy. You can't offer him anytihng, god for bid yourself.___

I was rather careless as I re-entered the manor. I opened the gate quietly and strolled past the same guard. I passed the door to the manor and wandered back to the main hall on the third floor. A shadow sat outside my doorway. 

_Damn!_ I cursed to myself. The form rose to it's feet at the sight of me. My mind searched for the best course of action. _To hell with all this thinking!_, I immediately started running down the hall. 

I ran down several staircases with catlike ease. I started so slow down as I reached the first floor. I came to a stop. Without eating in two days and having downed so much water, I wasn't much for mobility at that moment. 

"Why are you running from me, Marcy?" Van asked soothingly. I turned around slowly to meet his gaze. He stared piercingly into my eyes. Though only by the light of dimming lanterns, I could see the pain in Van's gaze. I couldn't stand to hurt him, but that's all I could do. He encroached upon my position. I wanted to move but I couldn't bring myself to budge at all. 

I couldn't stand that he's looking at me. Hurting him made me squirm. "Don't look at me… please… don't…" 

"Marcella…" His voice seemed to be upset. It hurt though I knew I upsetted him quite often. How could he stand me? 

I turned. I started to move away from him. He grasped my shoulder gently, but I easily shook off his hold. I took a few steps and he grabbed my shoulder again, this time swinging me around. He held onto my other shoulder as well. I started to absorb his heat. I looked down shamefully and clenched my eyes shut. 

"Look at me," he pleaded. "Please just look at me." 

I shook my head. I knew I was able to break free from his clutches, but I didn't want to. He's just so… warm. A source of heat, something necessary to make my ice-filled veins melt, was something hard to find. 

"Look at me. Please, Marcy, look at me!" He yelled. I raised my gaze to his eyes. The faint purple glow captured me. I couldn't even consider leaving anymore, feeling so safe within his arms. 

"What's been wrong?" he questioned. He didn't understand how hard it was, I suppose, how hard it was to care at all for me. It was hard for him to watch things just fall apart within me. It was just hard to breathe without thinking someone else out there needs each breath more then I do. 

"You should go. Leave for good." I stated to him in such an illogical manner. He looked at me puzzled. I knew each of these comments hurt him. I didn't want to cause him any further pain. I truly cared more for him than myself. 

_You aren't so selfless. If it came down to your life or his, who would it be? If you were ordered to you'd kill him, wouldn't you._ I cancelled such thoughts. I wouldn't. I would rather die then inflict a single scratch upon him. 

My drenched clothes drip water down onto the hardwood floor. The sound was so familiar. It was so similar to the blood on the catwalk, but much more… peaceful. 

"You don't want me to leave you. Not to mention I wouldn't part with you like this. Tell me what's wrong. Please. I'm here." 

"I'm a killer, Van, or did you forget? I kill people for money. I kill people for food and a home and for my twisted little manor 'family'. All I can do is hurt you. I can't give you any happiness, I just can't love anyone!" I shook my head and once again avoid his glance. 

"You wouldn't hurt me. And I know, I'm absolutely sure that you love me. I know you better than all this." 

"I killed someone like you. Someone who looked like you and acted like you. He was someone who was like a mirror projection of you, Van! What makes you so sure I couldn't slay you?" The response I gave even struck me as odd. 

_You don't want to hurt him. Let him go. Let him leave. Let him be convinced you'd do something to harm him. _"I am just a monster." 

"You are not!" His protest was firm. His faith in me was just so surprising. Where did he find a source in such a belief? He knew what I did but he can tell I'd never hurt him. 

"I commit evil deeds day to day. Where do you get off saying I wouldn't?" 

"You are not a bad person, Marcella, you defend El Nido and its people! You make sure that all of us live to see tomorrow! Can't you see that?" 

I clenched my jaws. His grip was still firm. His hands feel so gentle despite the firm grasp. "I can't see anything through the blood." 

"Marcy, not everything is black and white. There are many shades of gray in this world! You are entitled to protect your people. You are fighting the noble fight." 

There are seas of gray. Miles and miles, oceans of just slight variances out there. Not everything can be determined where it is in such a large area. All you can do is hope you are at the right side. 

I started to cry. I brought myself into his welcoming arms and sobbed relentlessly. His fingers enlaced behind me holding me close to him. He was so warm and I was freezing. The whole manor was quiet and peaceful, like we were the only people with the building. The only sound was the falling water from my clothes hitting the floor and the soft crackling of the lit torches. 

That night once we reached my chambers I explained the whole ordeal to Van. He assured me that what I did wasn't wrong. I was protecting Karsh. He convinced me I wasn't a monster. I learned that night that Van would always be there for me. 

I know that what I do seems wrong. I knew how I was hurting people with each move I made but still... I needed to take this burden. I needed to defend everyone. I needed to make sure nothing ever happened to the better people, those like Van. Those sweet, innocent souls were always clinging to me, depending upon my protection. 

With so much more understanding than before, I eased into a peaceful sleep safely within the loving grasp of the one person who understood me better than I understood myself. 

As the sun rose above the trees outside the manor, I awakened with a smile on my face. I slowly slid out of Van's arms and walked to the window to watch the colors arrange in the sky. 

Light can always shines through, even when the world seems dark and empty. No matter how long the night seems, the sun will still rise. 

There will always be tomorrow. 

There is always hope, and always redemption as long as there is still tomorrow. 

The lights reflected off the dew on the iris blossoms as it did every morning. Beauty is everywhere. It may seem hard to find, but it's there. Within each person there is some lingering goodness. Whether they live by the sword or the quill, there is something to be said about existing in this world. That is the gift each life possesses. Goodness. 

  


**Four years later...**  
  
  


I slid the stone on my ring back and forth, just to occupy my time. I paced a little on the deck of the boat. The light reflected of the amethyst in many directions. The rays scattered and faded into the sky. I let out a sigh. 

I looked over at Karsh, who was leaning off the front of the boat with Riddel beside him. They were laughing and talking and such, but I couldn't help but think _poor Karsh_ to myself. His love was completely disregarded by Riddel. I watched him hurt each day silently, his destroyed emotions tearing a hole in what was left of him. 

Glenn walks about humming a merry tune to himself. His smile hadn't faltered in the past 4 years. Sometimes I wondered what he had to smile about. He's 33, single, and has never had a good relationship with a woman. He started dating Leena's best friend, Lisa, a few months prior to our trip. I hope it works out for him. 

Zoah's relationship with Janice, though, had really blossomed. It may sound odd, but they really make each other happy. They hit it off at the reunion three years ago, and are engaged now, just like Van and I. 

Engaged. As I said it, it seemed harder to believe. I, Marcy Zane, Youngest of the Acacian Devas, was going to marry Van Rudalya, a Terminian painter. 

We dated for a little over five years before he proposed, right in the middle of a training session at the manor. I was drinking some water after sparing with Karsh, and he walked in. He proposed in front of the other Devas and half the dragoon cadets. 

But, that was about four months ago. Back to the time at hand. 

With Van on my mind, I scan the area. I spotted him across the deck, peering down at the shining ocean. I snuck up behind him as he continued to stare down. I kissed him gently on cheek and snuggled up next to him. He put one of his arms around my waist. 

"Zenan's not far now. It's great we finally get a vacation," Van stated, smiling at me. He looked rather pleased. "Since the Porre Peace Treaty, they can't very well keep me away!" Van laughed. I smirked a little. 

"We need to stop at this arcade there, okay? I went there with Glenn once. They have this really nifty game called 'pinball'. Oh, and pool. You'd like it, Van!" 

"I bet!" We exchanged gazes for a few seconds, and then watch Zenan grow on the horizon. 

I peered once again at Van. "When we get to the mainland, I want to stop somewhere first, all right?" 

"Sure." 

We docked at Porre, and I decided to go head out without telling the other Devas. I stopped at a vendor and bought some bellflowers. I started to walk the path to the silo with Van close behind me. I must admit that the path was forever plastered in my head. 

I didn't really understand Van's silence. When we got to the silo, I spotted someone by a makeshift memorial. In the center was a picture of Trip in the middle. It was old and untended, but several live flowers were scattered about. I knelt and said a little prayer, and place the bellflowers down onto the cold earth. 

I hoist myself up and walked next to Van. As we headed back down the path I took one last look at the silo. The sunlight beamed down on it, offering some contentment to me at this place that held so much misery. 

_Rest in Peace, 'Trip'. I hope you can, and I am glad I finally had a chance to say I'm sorry._   


~Fin   
  
  


Well, Look at this! I was re-reading this story not too long ago, so I thought I'd touch up all the grammar, and fix some more of my spelling goofs... all that good stuff. I hope you like the new revamped version!  
I just want to leave one last little note. I really loved when I wrote this fic last year, in the middle of the summer when I was thirteen. I really love it now, too, with all the touch ups and special care. For all of you who write, I hope you love writing and what you turn out too! Never let anyone ruin the literary experience for you.  
Kate   



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